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"You gotta keep moving, or else your arm'll get sore," Frank suggested, watching as you walked into the living room after coming home from your doctor's appointment. He was slumped on the sofa, watching the latest liverpool fc game.
"I already am sore," you responded, slightly annoyed at your body's weakness.
"Well," Frank continued his previous point, "then keep moving so you don't get any more sore." You gave him an annoyed look, which he smiled at. You couldn't really be upset with the guy, especially not when he looked as cute as you did.
"Alright then," you finally conceded, "what do you suggest I do then?"
Frank thought for a moment, looking up at the ceiling as he did so. "Do you want a good answer, or my own answer?"
You furrowed your brows, giving him a look. "What's the difference?"
"Oh, come on, sweetheart. You've known me long enough to know there's a difference."
He had a point. "Hmm..." you though about his offer. "How about you give me the good answer first?" you decided.
Frank shrugged. "Simple exercises. Arm circles, across-the-body stretches... yoga even."
You couldn't help but laugh. His suggestions were endearing, though somewhat out of character for him. "Yoga...?"
He chuckled with you. "Okay, yeah, maybe that was a stretch," he admitted. "But we could always look something up. I'm sure Dr. Google has all the answers," he joked.
By now you were ready to hear his own ideas. "So," you started, "what about what you had in mind?"
A sly smile crept onto Frank's face. You knew that expression all too well by now. "Well..." he started, trying to act ominous about his next words, as if you couldn't already guess what he was going to say, "...you could use me to help you." The look he gave you was seemingly innocent, but after being with Frank for as long as you had, you knew he was giving you his please-baby-fuck-me eyes.
Still, you pretended to be ignorant of his intentions, knowing he liked when you teased him a bit before fully giving in. "Oh?" you inquired with a tilt of your head. Frank felt his pants grow tighter at the small gesture, finding each and every single one of your subtle mannerisms the cutest thing ever.
"I'm afraid I don't understand," you continued. "Could you be more specific?" As you talked you kept slowly walking towards him, peeling off your coat then tossing it beside him on the couch. You watched as his face began to grow red.
Frank let out an amused scoff, trying to act unaffected by your obvious flirting. "Baby, you know what I mean," his voice was lower than usual, almost like he was embarrassed by having to say his wants out loud.
You shook your head, still continuing your innocent, unknowing act, despite the fact that you were already sinking to your knees in front of him. Frank sighed, begrudgingly voicing his needs, "You could help both of us out by giving me a handy."
"Attaboy."
With that, you began undoing his belt. Once that was over, your fingers flew to the hem of his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them before pulling them to his ankles. All that was left were his boxers, which gave you a perfect view of his hardened dick pressed against the fabric. You traced it through the cotton with a finger, causing him to twitch towards your hand.
You glanced up at him for permission. You assumed you had his consent already, but the both of you always made sure to properly check. His face was already flushed, his brows furrowed and his eyes needy. His lips were pursed and he nodded, letting you continue - though his expression made it look like he was silently begging for you to.
Pulling down his boxers, his dick sprung forward. No matter how many times you've seen it by now, you were consistently impressed by his length. You brought up the hand of your vaccinated arm, wrapping the fingers around his base. You began pumping his shaft up and down, swirling your thumb around his precum leaking tip whenever you got to the top.
Frank was already a mess, content sighs and moans spilling from his lips with each stroke. You always loved how vocal he was. Wanting to get more of a reaction from him, you quickened your pace, your fingers now wrapped around him tighter than before. He instantly felt this shift in your motions, letting out a breathy, "Oh, fuck yes-" before whimpering as you twisted your fist around him.
By now, he was starting to rock his hips to match your pace, chasing his release. Besides his own pleasure, you could feel your arm getting less tense as well. Maybe this wasn't such a bad strategy after all. Your train of thought was then broken by Frank's voice.
"Please, sweetheart... Faster..." he begged, looking down at you teary-eyed and desperate.
You smirked, proud that it was you who had reduce him to this state. "Of course, baby," you obliged. With that, you began jerking him off at a relentless pace. His precum acted as lube, making it easier for you to work your way up and down his dick. He immediately moaned out, his face crumpling as his mouth formed into an O. His hands gripped the edge of the couch cushions, searching for some sort of stability as his orgasm approached.
Though you had no intention of letting up, he still begged for his release. "Please, please please," he mumbled through pants and whimpers. After just a few more pumps, Frank came into your fist. His hips bucked, his dick still craving stimulation through his orgasm. You continued to jerk him off, your pace gradually decreasing.
Once your hand finally came to a halt, Frank's eyes fluttered open to look down at you. "Thank you, baby," he said with a soft smile, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Of course, Frankie," you smiled back at him.
"So," he started, still catching his breath as he came down from his high, "how's your arm feeling?"
You let out an amused huff at that. You were surprised he still remembered. "Okay, fine," you rolled your eyes playfully.
"I guess your idea did work."